


Series of Moments Frozen in Time

by My_Black_Crimson_Rose6



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Drabble Collection, I'll label each chapter with the proper tags, M/M, Sexual Themes, Tumblr Prompt, there's a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-09 15:41:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 6,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4354694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Black_Crimson_Rose6/pseuds/My_Black_Crimson_Rose6
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts with a letter, it bleeds to a word and quickly a drabble is formed.</p><p>Also known as another collection of drabbles from Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Locington: After the Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr @[ShadowSheyla](http://shadowsheyla.tumblr.com/)  
>  **  
> **  
> [send me a ship and one of these and i’ll write a mini fic](http://shadowsheyla.tumblr.com/post/124096749112/send-me-a-ship-and-one-of-these-and-ill-write-a)  
>  _\-- >things you said after you kissed me_  
> Tags: Cannon Compliant, set in season 12.

The helmet fell to the floor, rolling away from their feet as the two men quickly preoccupied themselves with other matters—more  _pressing_ matters. Like shutting Locus up from his strangely flattering, yet very odd, ways of  _wooing_ the Freelancer. With the inquiry to why it is that he’s assisting the Federal Army, why he’s taken a shining in  _trying_  to whip them up into a decent enough shape to fight the Rebels. With the late night private hand-to-hand sparring exercises. With the casual tone that either would take while commenting on the other’s handling of a weapon.

Eventually it just… it  _wore him down_. It wore him down to the point that when it was just the two of them he’d slip into a calm that he  _knew_  he should be wary of—knew that even though he picked up on the notion that there was more to Locus then he let on he still  _did it_. There was something about the excitement, that little taste of something that he knew he shouldn’t be tasting that drove him to throw caution to the wind. To throw the constant self hatred and guilt aside and think about himself—what  _he wanted_  for once.

After the fourth night Locus started to remove his own helmet, setting it to the ground or the bench beside him. He had a lovely face—strong prominent features, a strong straight nose, full lips and angular jaw. Even the scars on his face were strangely even—flowing with the rest of his features even though it marred the dark skin with a pinkish hue. Still angry.

On the seventh night since Washington started to remove his helmet came him pulling the man in by his power suit and slamming their lips together in a frenzy. His hands cradling, smushing Locus’s face to his. It wasn’t romantic, it wasn’t sweet—it was a harsh press of lips and a man gripping the other’s face. Washington pulled away, panting heavily—armor rising and falling as he caught his breath and glared at the man in front of him, the man he finally just released. “You drive me  _insane_  and you  _know that_ ,” he was able to hiss out, before Locus slammed him back against the wall and devoured his mouth.

All tongue and teeth, all swallowed cries and clenching thighs hiked around the other’s waist. “It’s something we agree on then,” Locus replied before kissing him anew.


	2. WashingFace: Sleepy Monologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****  
>    
>  [send me a ship and one of these and i’ll write a mini fic](http://shadowsheyla.tumblr.com/post/124096749112/send-me-a-ship-and-one-of-these-and-ill-write-a)   
>  _\-- >things you said when you thought i was asleep_
> 
> _Can find the rest of the series **[here](http://shadowsheyla.tumblr.com/post/124135061912/and-then-on-skype-i-went-and-pictured-them-getting)**_  
>  Tags: Domestic AU/Modern AU, talk of adoption, talk of Marriage 

He brushed the hair away from Terrence’s forehead, before cuddling back into his chest. It was late, far too late for him to have woke up from the dead of sleep and check on his partner. They’ve just recently returned home from visiting Wash’s sister and her family (North and York—whom she married—and their four children of Delta, Eta, Iota, and Theta). It was nice to be in his own bed, curled up with his boyfriend without the worry of the  _pitter-patter_  of smaller feet pushing open their door and climbing into bed with their Uncle Davie.

Wash pressed a kiss to the man’s tattooed chest, right on the D in **REDEMPTION**. “I think about us having kids, I’m a little jealous when I see big happy families.” The man’s chest continued to rise and fall under his cheek, under his hand. “Not now—too soon for that, just… eventually. I have feeling that it’ll come eventually, but it’s… sometimes I just don’t want to wait.” He whispers in the man’s chest, hooking a leg over his waist as he continued to curl into his partner.

“We should get a pet first though, make sure we can actually take care of another being before getting a kid—maybe a house, or at least something bigger than this… or well, move the gear.” He didn’t look up, not as he yawned and his speech began to slow. Terrence’s eyes finally opened, blinking up at the ceiling above them when he lover finally fell to sleep.

They were falling fast, so incredibly fast for each other—a year in and they’re joking about marriage, and Wash is talking about children. It was… it was _something_. Not unpleasant, not… really surprising either. Terrence was the one that brought up getting married that first time, he was the one that played around with Wash’s fingers and cared for his left ring finger. It was only normal for Wash to want to have children after spending four days with his sister and the four that were living there—he was  _fantastic_  with them, a natural.

Terrence ran his fingers through the hair on the nape of the blond’s neck, up to the top of his head before sliding back down with an exhale. Wash would bring up the pet thing, he was sure of that much—the child thing, well… that’ll most likely come at a later date.


	3. Sharklix: Why fight when you can fuck?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **[send me a pairing and a number and I’ll write you a drabble](http://shadowsheyla.tumblr.com/post/124186119487/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you) **
> 
> _\-- >Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”_
> 
> Tags: Canon Compliant, Felix has his dick out, Felix is also a douche (but we all know this), sass

Right there was the definition of pride—the way he melts against the two pillows and the wall, the sheets gathered and bunched at his feet. The way he opened his legs and posed his body to bring attention to his erect cock. And Sharkface would give the mercenary points for the tactic, would clap at the bold move… if, y’know, those weren’t his clean sheets he was dirtying.

“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” Sharkface pulled off his helmet, setting it aside on the table he had added to the room—made it easier to short through his shit without just tossing it all in the corner and worrying about it the next day. He wasn’t looking at him when the man in his bed huffed and rolled his eyes at the man’s armored back.

“Not naked, fishdicks, I got a sock still on.” Sharkface spared a glance over his shoulder and at the pointed foot connected to a straight, muscular leg held up in a similar fashion to that of a ballerina. Sharkface snorted at the mental comparison as he returned to his task at hand.

“It seems so,” he agreed setting both gauntlets to the tablet before he started tackling the chest piece. “Though you haven’t explained the reason as to  _why_ you’re here in the first place.”

Felix slipped off his bed, slinking and assisting the man pull off the chest and back plates without much of a word of answer. He tossed the armor he was holding to the table with the rest of the man’s parts, taking hold of his arm and pulling him round to face him. “We want the same people dead so that makes us allies—allies gotta find some other reason of keeping the other around, yeah?” Sharkface frown at his explanation, urging him to continue with the point he was attempting to make. “What goods fighting when we could be fucking instead?”

Now  _that_  made more sense—Sharkface huffed, “better than killing each other while our targets get away.”


	4. Tuna Sandwich: Child?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **[send me a pairing and a number and I’ll write you a drabble](http://shadowsheyla.tumblr.com/post/124186119487/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you) **
> 
> _\-- >I’m pregnant.”_
> 
> _  
> _Tags: Trans Male Character, Trans!Felix, Poly Relationship, Pregnancy, Injury, Comedy, Wash get hurt but he's fine.
> 
> Authors Note: I left out a lot of key issues that Felix would've faced while pregnant with their child. I didn't want to write about something I truly have no understanding off--I haven't been pregnant and while I'm trying to figure out my own comforts of my own gender pronouns (Genderfluid? Agender?) and dealing with my own  _situations_ I felt more comfortable with telling a story of a trans Male character having the child brought from a loving coupling and raised in a loving family. Plus, I felt that with Felix's character he'd be more like "If we're going to have a damn child,  _I'm_ going to have the child because its  _mine_." IDK, I'm more than happy with removing this chapter if I've done anything insensitive or problematic. 
> 
> Please feel free to inform me.

He isn’t the most thrilled at the results, not the happiest at the news he holds between his fingers as he makes his way downstairs. Sure, talking about the fact that they wanted children—the fact that he wanted  _his own_  children –and actually holding a pregnancy test in his hands, walking into the kitchen and leaning against the door frame were two completely different matters.

He watched as Terrence Dante pointed the large bowl of popcorn that they had—that glass bowl that Wash got from his Mother for Christmas dinners and stuff, and honestly it doesn’t get used for anything else but chips and popcorn—at Locus as the man twisted the cap off the soda they had collected for their movie night.

Every third weekend of the month was a movie marathon (all weekend. Sometimes even Friday nights too). Felix needed to keep up to date on his movies—what with living with three nerds and all, that and his no-longer-hidden love for chick flicks and romance movies. Wash had a soft spot for anything animated and hated them for a week if any sort of cat died in the movies they’d watch. Dante was still pissed about the shark movies they made him watch (Jaws, Deep Blue Sea, etc.)—so when he gets the movie choice it’s all horror and thrillers, all weekend. Locus liked war movies, that or superhero and science fiction stuff.

This weekend was the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings weekend, picked by Washington himself—something about swooning over the homoerotic undertones in the movies. That or Orlando Bloom (though they all silently agreed that he did make a pretty elf) and Aragon—ah yes, Dante grinned wolfishly at that.

The movie’s title screen playing in the next room as Wash got the rest of their little  _nest_  ready—the mattress from the futon in the basement moved in front of the couch upstairs, everything else pushed around to the walls as blankets and pillows formed mountains that they’d disperse later once the cuddling started and the movie was underway.

Felix cleared his throat, waving the slim white test he still had pinched between his fingers. “So,” he started, an uncharacteristic like fear gripping his gut, “I’m pregnant.” Now, for the record Felix would like to state that the series of events that happened  **were not**  his fault.

Terrence Dante was the one that fumbled with the popcorn, shattering the bowl and sending both food and glass  _everywhere_.

Locus was the one that missed the counter when he went to put the beverage back and it exploded upon contact with the tiles.

It  **was not** Felix’s fault when Washington came running in worried like that precious cinnamon bun that he was only to catch glass, popcorn, soda, or a combination of the above as the momentum carried him off his feet and crashing into the mess of glass, food and beverage with a sickening  _crack_  to his head.

…so, it wasn’t exactly the best of nights in their household—there’d be a bunch more nights with a raging Felix pissed that he wanted to have a kid so badly that he pushed off starting his testosterone injections until after the birth of their first (and only) child. Felix was going to insure that when he was big and fat and…  _glowing?_  That he’d be catered to day and night. He was going to  _milk this,_ damn it.

What he wasn’t expecting though was after they got Wash to emergency, and after his back, arms, neck and face were all stitched up—after the doctor confirmed that  _yes David did have a concussion_ —was for the man to brighten at the news of Felix’s pregnancy. For him to pull Felix in, showering his mouth face and neck with so many kisses—too many kisses. And it continued for all eight months and two weeks; his kindness drove Felix batty, batty enough sick Locus on the blond and have him distract him for a day (or week).

Felix gave birth to a little boy and much like the tradition that Felix’s eldest sister started with how she named her children, Felix named his after the first nametag he was greeted with when he walked in that evening—Jackson. He named their baby Jackson and he  _didn’t give a fuck_ ~

The last name was the thing they were puzzled on—Felix was dropping his name as quickly as possible and taking Locus’. Close friends all their lives, family pretty much adopted Felix before they had even started dating. Though really he had been tempted to name him after the other two: Washington being the only child, and Xiao-Li because Dante was the actual other half of Jackson’s DNA.

So fuck it— _fuck it_ , the combination was sounding pretty damn good with all the pain meds pumping through his veins. Plus… Felix was an asshole and his little  _Jackson_  had a huge head and liked kicking all throughout Felix’s pregnancy.

**Jackson Arvin Xiao-Li Washington**

Suck it Jackson— _suck it_.


	5. Manly/Wash: Tight Spaces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **[send me a pairing and a number and I’ll write you a drabble](http://shadowsheyla.tumblr.com/post/124186119487/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you) **
> 
> **17.**   _“Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…”_
> 
> Tags: College AU, 7mins in Heaven (Omfg)

Manly cleared his throat, righting his posture by stuffing his hands into his lap and sitting up straight when the man in front of him narrowed his eyes. All he wanted to do was sigh and swoon at the man’s feet—grovel and just…  _kiss me now_.

They were in college, why was it that they were playing middle school games at some large gathering anyways? Whose drunken idea was it to play Seven Minutes in Heaven? He hopes it wasn’t him. Though he’d thank himself if it was him either way. “Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…”

The flashlight their friends threw in there with them illuminated Wash’s eyes—he had the prettiest of eyes. Even when they fell closed and the man sighed heavily, “Are we going to make out or are you just going to look at me? I haven’t exactly gotten  _lucky_  for the last two months and I was hoping to get drunk and earn at least some pity kisses before crawling my pitiful ass back home and—”

Ooh Manly was going to make this night something to remember—going to clear away that dry streak for him and leave their friends talking about  _this_ hook-up for days to come. Washington crawled into his lap, chasing that tongue for more of a press—just more of human contact and intimacy. Yeah, Manly was going scratch himself a notch on Wash’s bedpost.


	6. Locington: Secretes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **[send me a pairing and a number and I’ll write you a drabble](http://shadowsheyla.tumblr.com/post/124186119487/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you) **
> 
> **47.**   _“No one needs to know.”_
> 
> Tags: Possessive Behavior, Canon Compliant, Season 13, Canon Divergence (as so that there's a Locington relationship), Hidden Relationship, "Double Agent" 

It wasn’t perfect, wasn’t ideal. It was lust and desperation –or so he claimed. It started back when they were two armies, when it was a linear Rebels vs. Feds—it steamed from lust and desperation, of a need for  _something more_. It drove them further, it made them reckless. It drove them to find their own channel to communicate on, drove them to slip away from their respective sides and meet somewhere they’d establish throughout the week.

It was risky, it was stupid—Washington didn’t know why he did it. Didn’t know why he was being so damn selfish suddenly—why he moaned when Locus whispered, “no one needs to know” and he found himself falling all the more. No one needed to know that he fell for the enemy, no one needed to know that he found his comfort in his arms—with him between his thighs and his between Locus’.

No one needed to know that they’d share secrete information of their own sides—a tit for tat. Washington learned that they had a former Insurrectionist solider on their side that had a personal vendetta against both Washington and Carolina. Locus learned that Caboose was the Warrior the temple called for. No one needed to know that Washington informed him that the sword wouldn’t work without them first killing Doyle—that it was bonded to him. No one needed to know that Locus told him about the Meta Suit.

No one needed to know that when Washington’s communications went silent he had flipped over to the frequency he shared with Locus—no one needed to know just how selfish Agent Washington was being, they didn’t need to know that he wasn’t as sure hearted as he once was.

No one needed to know about Locus and he—not Washington allies; not his friends and companions.

No one needed to know about Washington and he—not Felix, not Price, not Sharkface and not his men. Washington was his and his alone.


	7. Locington: Lacy Panties and Fishnet Stockings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **[send me a pairing and a number and I’ll write you a drabble](http://shadowsheyla.tumblr.com/post/124186119487/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you) **
> 
> **46.**   _“Hey, have you seen the..? **Oh.** ”  
> _Tags: AU Mercenaries/Crime, Modern AU, Lace Panties, Fishnet Stockings, Wash you sexy minx

Shit he was running late; he a meeting with the damn client about some _delicate_  matters pertaining to… human management—yeah, let’s just call it that. He dealt with the control of humanity, helped weed out the undeserving at a price.

His lover, Washington, wasn’t the proudest of the job Locus had though he ran with crowds similar to what Locus and his (business) partner did. Though it’s not like either went around saying what either man did as a way of making their income. Maybe it was the fact that he fell in love with a man from the same walks of life—same  _business venture_  as his own, and that was why he couldn’t help but raise a brow in question every time Locus took out the suitcase containing his sniper rifle.

But, it was more logical to conclude that Washington was more worried about his lover more so than the fact that Locus was a mercenary—a gun for hire. After all, it’s the same look that Locus bore when he’d watch the blond grab his own weapons and stuff a damn rocket launcher into the back of his car.

He was running late and he could find his damn sidearm that he typically kept tucked under his suit jacket. He checked the living room where he cleaned it last night, he wasn’t sure that he brought it in with him and hid it in the bedside table—he didn’t typically do that, not when Wash had a shotgun strapped to the underside of the bed and a collection of combat knives hidden around the room. “Hey,” he called out, storming down the hall to the master bedroom, “have you seen the…”  _Oh._

Washington shook the holstered gun, tossing it to the bed for Locus to reach. Locus didn’t catch the movement, didn’t quiet catch anything else but lime green lacy panties and long thigh-high fishnets. He caught the graceful sway that the man’s hips swung in—dramatic, pronounced, each stride with a purpose as he wrapped an arm around the man’s neck and kissed his jaw. “Stay in bed with me,” Wash’s mouth tugged up into a wicked little grin, brushing over Locus’ lips as he felt himself fall prey.

“I have to meet with a client,” Locus tried, tried and failed to pull away from the seduction—that pull.

Wash only grinned all the more, “let Felix handle it for once—if he complains I’ll bring the minigun.” He pulled away, eyes falling to half-mast as he swayed back towards the bed. Locus followed, suit jacket slipping from his shoulders and pooling around his feet before he met the blond step for step—one back, one forwards—until Washington was sinking back and Locus was joining.


	8. Washlix: Sweet Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **[send me a pairing and a number and I’ll write you a drabble](http://shadowsheyla.tumblr.com/post/124186119487/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you) **
> 
> **15.**   _“So, I found this waterfall…”  
> _ Tags: Underage (just in case 'cause damn it 15 is young), Summer Camp AU

It was fun, sneaking out of the cabin when all the others were sleeping. They were fifteen and  _young_ , dumb and smitten. When all the breaths would even out, when the other boys in their cabin started their snoring that’s when grab their flashlights from under their pillows and creep out of the cabin. They’d run to the tree line clutching each other’s hands.

They’d flick on the flashlight and go even further, further and further still until the trees swallowed their light and their sound. Until it was just Washington and Felix, and just as soon it was Felix  _and_  Washington—their mouth’s meeting, fingers fumbling and bumping as they held on to each other and kissed the kisses they held back throughout the day.

“So, I found this waterfall…” Felix trailed off, dragging Washington further into the forest, just off the beaten path—to the sound of rushing water and trickling streams. Of course Felix would’ve found the waterfall these streams belonged too—too noisy for his own good.

“I can hear that,” Wash bit at the corner of his lip, fighting the grin from forming on his them when Felix’s brows furrowed at him. He scoffed, tugging on Wash’s arm a little harsher, hurrying a little faster through the brush.

It was a hike to get there, to this waterfall that Felix found—a hike that led to both boys grinning at each other and throwing their clothes off in efforts to get into the water first… before the awkwardness of being  _naked_  would hit.


	9. WashingFace: Dance with Me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **[send me a pairing and a number and I’ll write you a drabble](http://shadowsheyla.tumblr.com/post/124186119487/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you) **
> 
> **37.**   _“Wanna dance?”  
> _ Tags: High School AU, School Dances, First Dates, Cheek Kisses, LOOK AT THE FLUFF!!

It was his third year of high school; he was almost done with this place—almost out, free to follow his own damn path and not have to worry about his parents or siblings walking in on him while he masturbated. Yes, they were the types of assholes that didn’t knock before entering or they knocked and quickly entered right after. It was  _very_  annoying—doubly so when he had a… well, _gentleman caller_  over and he wanted something a little more than a kiss.

York, South and CT had all harped him throughout the week— _come to the dance_  this,  _you going to the dance_  that. It went on until he agreed and even that was turned into questions about what he was wearing and if he was going with someone already. But no, Maine had a family thing that night and wouldn’t be able to go with him—when he told them that CT gave him a  _look_  that just screamed trouble for him, he could just  _feel it_.

But an hour and a half in, three slow songs later and Washington was going to sit through the fourth only proved that maybe he was looking too far into it. Maybe they didn’t have some cliché  _a guy comes and sweeps you off your feet_ deal planned for him—he… he sighed, sinking down to the gym floor with bitter feeling sinking into his gut.

North and York are currently a thing and it was just awkward to stick around them for the night. South was with her girlfriend Emily Gray, Carolina was getting asked to dance by both girls and guys a like (when she and York breakup everyone goes in with the moves), CT was hanging out with her boyfriend and his group of friends—she’d push one of the seniors (Terrence mostly, Wash was in his English class after taking tenth grade English in summer school after Freshmen year) around, laughing when the tall male would retreat from her physical treatment.

Wash sighed again, eyes falling shut and head knocking back against the wall behind him as he settled in for the fourth slow song of the night when his foot was nudged. He peeked up at the person who came to his section of wall. “Wanna dance?” Terrence pointed to the swaying bodies behind him, shifting from one foot to the other.

 _Oh_. Oh so this is what CT was planning—that…  _bitch_. “Yeah,” he cleared his throat, accepting the hand outstretched towards him. He flushed, staring at the male’s collarbone at eyelevel—he shouldn’t have brought it up to South and CT. Shouldn’t have said that he found this one senior in his English class attractive—shouldn’t have mentioned his rich brown eyes or how his toothy grin made butterflies flutter in his stomach.

One hand cupped his neck, the other playing with the sleeve of the senior’s t-shirt. Terrence’s arms heavy around his waist as he embraced him more than anything. “Someone told me you have crush on me,” he stated, lips brushing the shell of his ear. Wash pushed closer into his chest, face attempting to get swallowed by the teen’s band tee. “Hope they’re right, ‘cause it’ll make it awkward if I asked you out and I got it wrong.”

Washington’s blush darkened, arms rising slowly to wrap around the teen’s neck. “If you ask me out I won’t say no,” he answered, heart skipping a beat when Terrence’s arms tightened around his waist.

“Will you go out on a date with me tomorrow? My hockey team is having a pre-season team bonding bullshit but we’re lighting fireworks afterwards… I can pick you up and I know a good place to watch them from.”

Wash nodded, “yeah… though can we consider the rest of the night as like… I donno, date one? Pre-date?” He kinda wanted to really kiss him, even just a cheek kiss, but he had a little guideline for himself placed that he didn’t kiss before the first date. He pulled Terrence down enough to whisper in his ear, “’cause I kinda maybe want to kiss you but I don’t like kissing before the first date.”

“Let’s call it a pre-date and we can save the actual kissing for tomorrow then,” he pressed a kiss to Wash’s freckled and pink tinted cheek—Wash was quick to return with a kiss of his own against the senior’s cheek.


	10. Yorklix: Confirm don't Deny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: "Marry Me?"

It was a long time coming—years of meeting at bars and communicating through little napkins slipped between them. 

Their lines of work kept them active, kept them hidden and ducking away from the law. He killed people— _a mercenary, York, I’m a mercenary_ —while the other passed his time breaking into one thing or another; computers, vaults, a chastity belt of Mobsters’ ‘prized’ daughter (ugh, York thought it was disgusting. What’s with Mobsters and their “I own this guy and this guy, this girl and this girl” speech? York didn’t get it).

It didn’t matter, not when he’d tug the collar of the man’s shirt away he’d see violent purple bruises blossoming. Felix’s fingers slipping up the back of his shirt and tickling the fine hairs on his back, right over the scar the man had given him when they found themselves hired by opposing employers. Their greeting curt, a flirtatious grin passed between them before the napkin would start slipping between them while they commented on the bar goers.

**Closed a business deal. Fucker went and died on me. Third party involvement.**

The napkin slips easily between them as they nursed their drinks. Their lips moving with a well practiced ease; “I’m fond of the red she’s wearing,” meant that Felix would accompany him back to his apartment that evening instead of York to his.

**You don’t seem too shaken over the loss of income**

Felix’s gaze softened as he read the message, snorting at his own thoughts before replying and slipping it back just as easily as before. Though, unlike from the times before, the smaller man didn’t glance back towards the people mingling and drinking. Merely sipping his beer as York tapped the corner of the napkin as he skimmed.

**Can’t say that I am seeing that I have someone else to occupy my time with**

**Oh?**

Felix folded the napkin, balling it up in his fist as he learned towards the thief. The neck of his bottle of beer held almost lovingly between forefinger, middle and thumb as he smirked at York. “Marry me?” Felix’s teeth always looked far too pointed to York, though it could be how his incisors and the neighbouring teeth slanted inwards. His grins always so predatory looked...  _soft_  as the corners of his eyes, smoothed of any wrinkles, shifted just slightly downwards.

York wanted to laugh, wanted laugh in the younger man’s face and not believe that silver tongue of his in the slightest. But that look... that look made him swallow his laughter and muse over his thoughts. “We’re not even dating,” York replied, setting his empty bottle onto the far side of the table.

“Date me.”

York’s eyes narrowed at the command. “Fine,” he answered, resting against the table and waiting for the next part—there was always a next part. Ever since he had first met the man, since he invited him into his apartment and into his bed, there was always more. Always something more with Felix that York just  _couldn’t quit_.

“Marry me.” No longer a question as the man’s eyes narrowed. This time York did laugh; he laughed and laughed—laughed even more as he stood and gripped the back of the man’s neck, chuckled when he leaned in close to whisper in his ear in passing.

“Convince me.”

 


	11. Saroming: A Man in Uniform

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

Back in that little box canyon, back to the defined lines in the sand that Reds were Reds and dirty filthy Blues were just that. The Freelancers providing to be prime grounds for argument— _this Freelancer is ours, that one is yours_. Their numbers grew, the bases needed to be expanded to house all these new arrivals—and no it didn’t matter if the Reds and Blues were splitting up lovers, there was no room in _war_ for _romance!_

So, much to the distain of poor old Sarge, it was only about time until he started whispering to his beloved shotgun (he’s named her Suzy) about the sniper in white armor and a lovely sniper rifle that he’d clean and caress—talk to even. How his mustache would curl as he smiled, and how Sarge would walk in on the man in the morning to witness him lovingly styling it. He could admire the man for that; the concentration in his gaze as styled it to perfection and _only_ to perfection.

He was embarrassed to say that he was thinking about courting the mustached fellow... well, until the most embarrassing moment of his adult life had found him laying with his head pillowed in the man’s lap and his uncovered fingers brushing Sarge’s hair back.

“You fainted,” his mustache twitched showing just how pleased he was at the events, “straight into my arms. I must say Sarge, if you wished for my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” His voice dipped into a coo, “your health is important.”

Sarge’s cheeks coloured, body tensing as he made to escape the man’s comforting grasp. “I—!”

The man shushed him, “you’re not as young as you once were, Sarge. You can’t keep pushing yourself.” No jokes, no hidden motives. There wasn’t another Red to be found near them—just them and the humid air. “Your team cares about you, and that includes myself. I don’t want to see the younglings fretting over an old man when I’d much rather see to the nursing myself,” his mustache twitched and his eyes sparkled, “I do believe that I have a nurse costume hidden away for just the occasion!”

Sarge’s eyes widened and he could feel his ears heat as the man continued to smile down at him. He cleared his throat, “well.” Well... He cleared his throat and settled back into the man’s lap. “If you’re insistin’ that I need medication assistance, then so be it. I will accept your offer... if what you say is true.”

He always did fancy uniforms after all.


	12. Manly & Wash: Hello and Welcome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

It felt _good_ to take off his suit of armor again, to feel safe enough to walk around with his boots and codpiece as the only armor he wore back from the showers with that Kevlar suit bunched around his waist. Felt that he made the right decision jumping ship and turning to the Insurrectionists—after learning just what the Director was doing, just mental flags that man would set off in Washington’s head.

Wash grew up on the streets, grew up cutting pockets and at time slitting throats to get himself to the age he was now. He _knew_ when to jump ship before it sunk, it was only a shame he couldn’t bring Maine with him. No, that man was stubborn and the Spartan Solider was loyal to the Director—just like how his training and conditioning taught him.

Wash sighed, running the towel through his blond hair as his door slid open. The door slid closed behind him and that’s when he found the man lazing in his bed in nothing but his birthday suit. The man’s fingers curling into the trail of hair leading down his toned, muscular stomach as the other pillowed his head on muscular arms. The towel slipped from Washington’s fingers and his cheeks coloured, “is there a _reason_ you’re **naked** in my bed?”

The man’s hand dipped lower and lower still. “You and I both know _why_ I’m here,” he licked his lips, gaze sweeping over the younger man’s freshly cleaned body. Wash’s ears flustered, the back of his neck heating as he took a step closer and then another. The man they all jokingly call Manly (or for those buzzkills who refuse to, simply refer to him as Sleeveless) sat up, kicking his legs over the side of the bed and made his way towards him. All tall, erect, and proud and... and... _shit_. Wash forced himself to only focus on the man’s face, but that face led to a jaw and a jaw led to his thick neck—“You’re staring Wash. You’ve been staring since you got here.”

Wash’s gaze snapped up as the man pinched his chin and tugged him in. “You’ve been staring at me too,” Wash couldn’t help but reply, swallowing thickly as the man leaned down and into his personal space. Manly kissed him; just a feather light touch to his lips as he pinched his chin between thumb and finger as he led him back towards the bed.

“Been flirting too,” he replied, humming as Wash’s cool fingers grabbed at his sides—slid up and down his skin as he followed and pressed in for another kiss. “After all, it’s hard _not_ to admire a good looking man, no?”

Wash’s only wish was that he was wearing less.


	13. Manly & Wash: Kinky Sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “You heard me. Take. It. Off.”  
> Set in the same AU as the chapter before this.
> 
> Tags: Kinks, Collars, Praise Kink, Oral (not really but ehh)

“Excuse me?” Manly rose, setting his helmet to the table before meeting his lover head-on. Ah, yes. Former Freelancer Agent Washington—Manly had really grown fond of the blond, took him under his preverbal wing. Took to slipping into the man’s room, into his shower stall, took to stealing food and nipping at his earlobes when the man would remove his helmet. The others took to teasing him mercilessly.

“You heard me,” his brow only arched higher, “Take. It. Off.”

Washington had a spice in him that Manly... enjoyed (he wouldn’t say love, far too early for love), enjoyed riling him up and watching that little click before Wash would roll them over and perch himself on top with a snarl. Enjoyed the teeth that would bite and bruise his skin, enjoyed the nails that’ll dig into his chest and shoulders.

Manly pulled his shirt over head and dropped it to the floor by the bare feet. The hair on his arms standing on end; Wash tended to keep his room cooler than the rest. He held his arms out to his sides. “Underwear too. Off with it.” Manly gripped himself through his boxers, rubbing his palm over his length as he watched his younger lover maintain eye contact throughout his little _show_.

“ _Mmm_ , David,” he licked his lips and clenched his eyes as he removed his boxers, kicking it away when it pooled around his ankles. He opened his eyes to Washington pulling his shirt over head, before sinking to his knees in front of Manly. Manly quirked a brow but refused to push his luck, tugging on his cock and thumbing over the head while Wash’s gray-blue eyes twinkled with that damn tint of mischievousness.

The blond’s tongue peeked out between his lips, nudging against the head of Manly’s cock to lick away the gathering moisture. “That’s a good boy,” Wash grinned, cooing before licking again at the head of his cock. “Though,” Manly’s eyes flew open when the man stood, kissing a trail up his chest, “I do suggest that you sit—I did teach you to sit, right boy?”

The older man swallowed thickly, falling prey to the man’s pushing and guiding until his legs buckled and he fell back onto the bed. “You’re a kinky shit, David, holy shit.” He sucked in a breath when the man pulled his dogtags over his head and dressed Manly in them alongside his own, watching as the man dig through the dresser close to his bed and pull out the thick dark gray leather collar that he could clearly see the name **_Manly_** carved into the metal.

He returned to the spot between Manly’s legs, showing the collar to him. “If you don’t want to I... I can get mine instead—or I can just forget about it.” His earlier confidence gone, shattered under the silence of Manly processing the new information. His whole face red, his neck and shoulders bleeding into a deep pink as well as the blond refused to hold his gaze.

“You got one too?”

Wash nodded, fingers wrapping around the gray collar in his hand. “You said you liked blue so... well, I got mine blue. It says David. I was... well I was thinking of putting a bell on it too but,” his face only continued to darken.

Manly cupped the man’s face, pulling him down for a kiss. “You’re going to need to change my name on that, can’t have you calling me Manly for much longer in bed.” He could only smile at the shock evident on his lover’s face, “collar me up baby and start calling me a good boy—I show you just _how good_ I can be.”

Wash’s chuckle sounded like _heaven_ in his ears, the collar around his neck was easily forgotten except when the blond would tug him closer and hold it tight as he rode Manly’s cock. And then it was just hot. So extremely hot when all he was _allowed_ to do was occasionally squeeze the man’s ass, lick into his mouth when he wanted to be kissed, and just _be pleasured_ without doing any of the work—yet he got all the praise.

“Tomorrow we test _yours_ out,” he sighed out with his arms full of Wash as the man continued his praise and pets to his face and hair, kissing his cheek and nose and mouth. “Fuck you like a bitch in heat,” he promised, that collar still pressed to his skin just enough of a reminder that it was there though never a bother.


End file.
